


No small degree of damage

by Taeyn



Series: cassian said I had to [3]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Canon Era, Crying, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kay-Tu being protective, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Robot/Human Relationships, Stealing a Cargo Shuttle, Teamwork, Trust, the scene where Kay-Tu carries Bodhi after all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 04:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9419204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taeyn/pseuds/Taeyn
Summary: At first, the pilot kept up a breathless stream of conversation- about his mission, the base at Eadu, fragments of his escape. It was mostly one-sided. Bodhi forgot to leave pauses for a response, and seemed not to hear or comprehend responses when he did.But that was alright.Kay-Tu had been reprogrammed too.





	

The rain spat down, the sky gaping black and the human fading fast. Kay-Tu had slowed his pace significantly since they’d left the wreck of the U-wing. At first, the pilot kept up a breathless stream of conversation- about his mission, the base at Eadu, fragments of his escape. It was mostly one-sided. Bodhi forgot to leave pauses for a response, and seemed not to hear or comprehend responses when he did.

But that was alright.

Kay-Tu had been reprogrammed too.

The droid knew that talking was Bodhi's way of processing and normalising the change to his wiring, helped him reconnect the circuits where he was able. He knew too, that this behaviour was not uncommon in organics after unpleasant or shocking events. While the rhythm of Bodhi's speech indicated he was not experiencing an immediate sense of fear, his shallow breathing, heightened pulse and excessive shivering were conclusive evidence of internal distress. This, Kay-Tu determined, was what the pilot’s verbal communication seemed to be distracting him from. And so Kay-Tu remained mostly quiet, occasionally offering small acknowledgements where he believed appropriate. All in all, he thought the pilot was doing well. That was, until the lights of the shuttle port grew bright enough to stretch their shadows. And then Bodhi dropped to his knees.

“We’re almost there,” he said weakly, though this seemed to be at odds with the violent trembling that rendered his legs too unsteady to walk.

“Yes,” answered Kay-Tu, feeling distinctly unhelpful by simply looming over him. “Variations in pace notwithstanding, it will take us another five to seven minutes to cross the terrain ahead.”

The pilot nodded, then shuddered, his wet hair falling over his eyes. He tried to drag the soaked strands back beneath his work goggles, but his fingers were badly shaking. The goggles fell off completely, and staring at them on the ground only seemed to confuse him.

“Beyond this ridge is the shuttle port where we might obtain a flight craft,” said Kay-Tu. The droid's initial reading was that, in his exhaustion, Bodhi had momentarily forgotten what they were searching for. When he saw Bodhi sink further into himself at the words, he realised the opposite was the case. The pilot remembered all too well.

“We need to get a ship,” Bodhi mumbled, determination overriding. He looked up at Kay, tried what might have been a smile. “We can. I know we can get a ship from inside.”

Kay-Tu was, on many accounts, not unmoved. The pilot had suffered significant injuries, not all his wounds were superficial or easily mended. He was barely conscious four hours ago. However, one of the less comprehensible aspects of organics was this: sometimes, when you least expected it, they seemed not to feel such harms at all. As if there was a backup system that might only be accessed once, couldn’t be activated intentionally, yet when it was, performed in ways that the general mode was not knowingly capable of.

Slowly, so as not to startle him, Kay-Tu bent down. He picked up the goggles, offered them to the pilot in what he hoped was a gesture of reassurance. Cassian would have known.

“You said you would prefer walking to being carried,” Kay-Tu confirmed.

Bodhi's eyes were bloodshot, filling with tears. Kay-Tu had noted this symptom en-route from Jedha too, he’d heard the pilot crying softly in the washcabin when no one else did. Kay felt it imperative now, more than ever, to be tactful, and to phrase his next words with care.

“But, if I do not carry you now, there’s an almost negligible chance of either of us making it there.”

Bodhi blinked at him, his red-rimmed gaze widening. For a jarring fraction of a second, Kay calculated how slim the chance of him actually getting this right was, how high the probability of hitting on something insensitive in the attempt. But then Bodhi's mouth twitched up at the corners, and he spluttered a husky laugh.

“I’d say that’s an accurate analysis,” he said regretfully, let out a lungful of air. “I’m really sorry.”

The sincerity in the apology surprised Kay-Tu. When he realised why, the sensation wasn’t an altogether easy one. He was familiar with it from Cassian, of course, but Cassian he trusted. Other nonsynthetics rarely spoke to him as an equal.

“Accurate analysis is my specialty,” Kay-Tu answered briskly, unsure how to deal with the second statement. He reached one metal arm behind Bodhi's shoulders, the other at the bend of his knees. Though the pilot did his best to hide the wince, Kay-Tu realised the bruises he’d sustained in captivity would not make the ride a comfortable one. He lifted as gently as he was able.

“The loading gates are on the left side, below the beacon,” Bodhi murmured. When he brushed the damp at his cheeks, his palms left two grazes of dirt. “It’s funny,” he added, “some things, like how to open the shuttle port, I still remember like it’s the only thing I’ve ever done. And then other things,” he laughed again, but this time it sounded more like a tremor, “like what my middle name is. Or what my sister looks like...” His face crumpled. “I have no idea.”

Kay-Tu surveyed the smaller figure in his arms. It struck him then, that both he and the pilot had been initiated into the Alliance with no small degree of damage. His own protocols, whilst unlocked in many respects, now had inconsistencies too. There were blank spots in his operating history, hours and even days erased from his hard drive. He’d come close to telling Cassian once- was it a by-product of the reconfiguration, or an intentional wipe? A mistake, or what Cassian might construe as a kindness? Kay-Tu did not see any advantage in willful ignorance. And yet he hadn’t asked.

“Some of that may return,” Kay-Tu said quietly. The pilot’s demonstrated resilience supported the projection. “Some may be lost for a longer time. And some... perhaps some...” he searched for the words, something to illustrate that he meant well.

“...maybe some is better left behind,” Bodhi managed. He stared at his Imperial flight suit, then up to the structure in front of them. His eyes narrowed, that same flash of raw energy that got them this far.

“We can make it right,” Bodhi whispered, then swallowed, steadied himself on Kay’s chest. “We’re here. We can.”

-

When they didn’t encounter any stormtroopers on approach, Kay-Tu hypothesised a series of unlikely but favourable coincidences. When there were none at the loading gate, he knew something was wrong.

“Why is there such poor security?” he said to Bodhi, who was frantically punching codes into the port’s central unlocking device.

“I don’t know. I don’t know,” Bodhi muttered, clearly more unsettled for the comment. Kay-Tu, who had been about to extrapolate on the likelihood of such an anomaly boding ill, decided to refrain.

“One explanation is that a significant occasion requires staff elsewhere,” he suggested, and Bodhi shot him a grateful glance. There was, in fact, less than a 4.48 percent chance of this explanation proving accurate. Then again, when they’d descended into Jedha’s atmosphere not a dawn ago, Kay could not have predicted they’d see it blown apart by noon.

“I will enter first,” Kay-Tu stated. The carbonised shell of the port made it impossible to scan with any certainty, though a repetitive sound pattern within registered as human speech. That, or someone had left a transmitter on. After a night spent waiting and rewiring their former ship's comms array, Kay-Tu found himself almost hoping it was the former.

“Okay. I’ll be right here,” Bodhi assured him. Though the unarmed pilot’s presence did not instil much confidence backup-wise, there was something in his resolve that Kay-Tu found strangely endearing. He pushed open the door.

In contrast to the drizzled murk outside, the floodlights in the hangar were garish. Kay processed fourteen Zeta-class cargo shuttles, each 35.5 by 28.74 meters, with four wings, two wing-mounted heavy laser cannons, three hull-mounted laser canons, all hyperdrive-system equipped. There were also two stormtroopers, helmets on the ground and cigarettes in hand.

“The shipment isn’t due till 0400,” said one of the soldiers, confused. The other’s face was twisted in a sneer. Or perhaps that was his natural state of expression.

“Yes. Well,” said Kay-Tu, striding mechanically toward them until he was within arms-reach. “We’re ahead of schedule.”

The trooper who had spoken went down with a resounding clatter, Kay-Tu hadn’t even hit him that hard. While the other stood gaping, Kay snatched the blaster from his armor, then calmly aimed it at his chest. He was about to pull the trigger, when he heard some kind of choking noise behind him.

Maintaining focus on the frozen trooper, Kay-Tu directed a portion of concentration toward assessing the intrusion. He was surprised to realise the sound came from Bodhi, who appeared to have interpreted the commotion as a call for aid. The pilot was standing in the doorframe, a crude workshop implement in one hand, stare locked on Kay’s blaster in terror. His breath was coming in short, stricken gasps, and his face had drained of colour. His eyes pleaded, but he didn’t need to. Kay-Tu had already made his decision.

The droid kicked the blaster across the floor and hoisted the trooper up by his uniform instead. One advantage of a cargo hanger, is that it does contain a rather large number of storage crates for restraining someone.

“Clear of hostiles,” Kay-Tu announced.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Bodhi returned, his voice stammering to a thin rasp. “I’ve… seen worse… before.” He fumbled in his pocket, pulled out a datachip and inserted it into the release drive on the wall. Across the space, one of the shuttles made a low whirr, lights flickering with an erraticness that Kay-Tu did not find encouraging.

He set aside the misgiving, quickly made his way to the pilot. Possibly because he looked like he were about to collapse again, possibly because now they really needed to hurry. A multitude of potential responses crossed his mind:

_-it was no trouble, more like creative problem solving._

_-don’t worry, they’ll certainly be killed for this breach anyhow._

_-I wonder how often those storage crates get checked?_

But Bodhi was grinning at him with a kind of wild relief, or frenzied triumph.

“I hope you know how to fly that thing,” Kay-Tu offered instead. In truth, it wouldn’t take him more than a minute to analyse the console and programming, but then…

“Are you kidding?” said Bodhi. He stood straighter, something in his eyes returned to him. “It’s my specialty.”

-

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! c: I just got to the part in Alexander Freed’s Rogue One novelisation where K-2 offers to carry Bodhi (“I could carry you anyway… that way you wouldn’t have to choose.”) …and it gave me so many feels?? :33 If inspiration strikes, I think I might write more about these two bonding and K-2 being protective... ;___; <3 But over and out for now, kudos and comments are always adored and appreciated! <3


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